


Thanksgiving, Rifles and Emperors

by KittyAug, KittyAugust (KittyAug)



Series: Rifles and Emperors AU [1]
Category: Constantine (Comic), Constantine (TV), Hellblazer, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Constandean, Family Fluff, Latin, Lingua Latina, M/M, Meet the Family, Thanksgiving, The Righteous Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-10 10:03:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3286268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/KittyAug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/KittyAugust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A meet-the-parents, AU. </p><p>Everyone's alive. It's Thanksgiving, and long time beat cop John Winchester is not impressed that his eldest son is bringing home FBI Special Agent Constantine for dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wtinp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wtinp/gifts).



> This is a gift for the unwell wtinp. Hope this cheers you up in your time of illness, petal. 
> 
> Their prompt was: "I need an AU of this ship where everyone lives and they do the meet the parents thing and Mary is adorbs and John is all grump face and maybe Dean thinks it's bc of the homophobia but really it's bc he doesn't think Constantine is good enough (and maybe he was secretly waiting for Dean and Cas to get together) and Sam is just laughs the entire time. Prolly a little ooc but I just. Want so bad."
> 
> How could I resist that! I've also got a second idea from the same prompt (set in a more canon-divergent 'verse) but it is more complicated so I'll write up a taster of that after I finish my [SPN Femslash Mini-bang](http://spnfemslashnews.tumblr.com/) fic.
> 
>  **IMPORTANT NOTE:** This is NOT part of [Hunters & Hellblazers](http://archiveofourown.org/series/187280) \- same pairing, different 'verse!

“Mom?”

“Dean, baby, how are you?”

“I’m good. Actually, I’m great. Listen I need to warn you about something.”

“What’s the matter, baby?”

“Nothing’s the matter, Mom. It’s just… you know how I told you I’m bringing someone home for Thanksgiving?”

Mary’s eyes widened and she motioned urgently at her husband to pick up the other phone and listen in. John Winchester rolled his eyes and sighed indulgently before he complied. It wasn’t like there was any chance of him not doing what he was told - but he liked to make a show of it anyway. No one had any doubt that Mary Winchester’s word was law in their house even with both the boys grown and gone.

“Son,” John said.

“Oh shi… um. Hi Dad.”

“You said you had something to tell us, darling?” Mary prompted. “About who you’re bringing home for Thanksgiving?”

John almost felt sorry for his eldest son.

Mary had been waiting for over ten years for Dean and his best friend, Castiel Himmlisch, to finally get together. And, yes okay, maybe John wouldn’t be that disappointed either. The Himmlisch boy was a nice kid and he’d been Dean’s saving grace in more ways than one during their high school and college careers.

John and Mary had both been disappointed when the kid went to Seminary. But Mary’s hopes had soon been rekindled when Cas ended up with a PhD and teaching philosophy and theology at the University of Kansas rather than a cassock and priest’s collar.

Dean took a deep fortifying breath before continuing. “Sooo… itsaguy.” He said all in one rushed gasp of words.

“Sorry?” John said firmly.

Dean was 26 years old and a successful cop in his own right  - just got his detective's badge (John couldn't be prouder). And yes, John might still wear a uniform to work but he was still Dean's superior and, more importantly, his old man - it was practically his job to make sure his sons remembered that particular point now and then. Also, there was some vindictive joy in making the boy squirm. He’d been more than a handful growing up and parents have to take their petty revenge where they can get it. In this case in the form of a firm tone of voice and a forced repetition. Even if it did earn him a glare from the Winchester matriarch – it was worth it. It wasn’t like his chance to rub this in would come again.

“He’s a guy. Alright? And um…” Dean hesitated again. “You guys kind of already know him”

John shot Mary a broad smile. She was practically jumping up and down. He loved seeing her like this. The way she threw herself into their children’s lives. It might mean their pain brought her pain but their joys more than made up for it. God she was amazing.

“That’s wonderful darling,” Mary managed. “Who is the lucky boy?”

John would swear he could hear the kid wincing across the line.

“John Constantine,” Dean said. At least that’s what John thought his son was saying. But that couldn’t be right.

“What?” John said. Realized he was crushing the phone in his hand and forced his grip to relax before continuing. “As in Special Agent, John Constantine? From Kansas City FBI? _That_ John Constantine?”

“Yes?” Dean said sounding unsure.

Mary’s eyes were wide. She came from a police family. Samuel Campbell had been the Douglas County Sheriff up until his retirement a few years back. And she had been married to a member of the Lawrence Police Force and current Head of Community Protection for almost 30 years. She knew all about the ongoing animosity between the Kansas City FBI branch and the local force. And their very different approaches to law enforcement.

Not to mention she was probably just shocked that the boy, no the _man_ , that their son was bringing home wasn’t Castiel.

“As in the limey bastard who swaggered in and snaked that serial killer case from us last year?” John continued. Trying to ignore Mary’s disapproval at his tone.

“Yes,” Dean said. And yes, John could definitely hear him wincing that time.

“The guy they call the _Hellblazer_ ,” John said with as much derision as he could muster. They call him that because he broke up some huge drug and human trafficking ring back in New York. He was everything that John didn’t like about the Feds. John had secretly hated the guy since he walked into the department and basically took over most of the Investigations office and half his beat cops a few years back. All trench coat, cigarette smoke, and arrogant nonsense.

“Yes,” Dean said sounding almost hopeless at this point. And Mary was looking more and more distressed – and okay that did make John feel bad. But seriously, how was this happening?

“Have I done something wrong?” John asked with a long suffering sigh. Less than half joking. Because had he failed somehow? The guy had to be at least ten years older than Dean and, to be blunt, he was a complete jerk.

“What?” Dean was confused. Well that served him right.

“I mean, are you punishing me for something?” John said. Trying not to let his exasperation overtake his voice and failing.

“No! Dad, no. I’m just… he gets me okay. I… god…”

“Now now,” Mary interrupted. “I’m sure he’s lovely.” She glared at John who shrugged back. Because Special Agent Constantine could be described a lot of ways but lovely was not one of them. "And we’re _both_ looking forward to seeing him on Thursday,” Mary continued with an emphatic glare at her husband.

John was pretty sure he wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's enough interest I could write another chapter or two... not sure? Maybe from Johnny C's POV. Yes? No? Maybe??  
>  
> 
> _See also:[Hunters & Hellblazers](http://archiveofourown.org/series/187280)_


	2. Chapter 2

“This has got to be the strangest sodding holiday you people have come up with,” John said as he shruged into his coat. “Who celebrates starvation, betrayal, and genocide. Bunch of our blokes trot over the pond, almost starve, get saved by the native chaps. Then go betray them and kill everyone with poisoned blankets. Hu-bloody-rah.”

“That’s going on the list of things you _cannot_ say in front of my Mom,” Dean sighed. “Anyway, Thanksgiving isn’t about _that_ stuff.” He waved a hand vaguely. “It’s about pie, and turkey, and food. Lots of food. You like food, remember?”

John grumbled so Dean stomped over and tightened Constantine’s ever-present tie - a little rougher than necessary out of sheer frustration. Of course all that actually got him was a lecherous wink. And that goddamned smirk. But they were already running half an hour late (that whole joint shower thing probably wasn’t the best plan, in hindsight).

“In’t this all a bit posh and proper?” Constantine’s tone was what would be called a whine in anyone less commanding. “I feel like a bloody 14 year old.”

“Yeah, well you act and dress like one too,” Dean said and gave the tie a final aggressive tug into place before giving it up as a lost cause.

“Really,” Constantine got a dangerously sly look in his eye. “That mean I can call you Daddy?” He was standing close enough that Dean could feel his body heat. And there was some kind of fire in his eyes as they raked down Dean’s body.

“Get in the car,” Dean said instead of replying to any of that. Tried to push the older guy out the door but he planted his feet and swayed with the shove. Sometimes Dean forgot that John is actually capable in a fight – knows how to use his weight and his body for more than sex but chooses not to most of the time.

Dean glared.

“Alright, _Daddy_ ,” John said. Leaned in close to say it too - before spinning on his heel and leading the way out of the apartment.

“That’s going on the list too,” Dean snapped after him. Checked he had his keys before pulling the door shut behind them and heading for the Impala.

“You’re no fun at all, mate.”

“That’s not what you said last night,” Dean countered with a lascivious wink of his own.

Constantine chewed on his lip and tilted his head in a way that Dean was going to read as conceding the point then climbed into the car.

Dean hesitated and took a deep breath before opening his own door. It’s times like these Dean really wished he believed in God or something the way Cas did. He could seriously do with a prayer for strength today. He just knew he was going to need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was a short one but it didn't need to be longer to say what it needed to. Comments still very much appreciated - still not totally sure how I'm doing at this whole AU thing!


	3. Omnia est Magis Venereum in Lingua Latina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is more romantic in Latin

To say that Sam was amused would be an understatement. Almost as much of an understatement as Mary saying that her husband was “a little bit unimpressed” about Dean’s choice of dinner guest.

Which were her exact words when she tried to warn them while Sam and Jess were helping her get the centerpiece down from the top shelf in the pantry. Sam tried not to drop a bunch of wooden apples - all hand-painted by Sam, Dean and Charlie when they were kids.

“Unimpressed?” Sam said. “Why? Has he finally got the guts up to ask Cas out?”

“Not exactly,” Mary had said with a slight sigh. Then their conversation had been interrupted by the doorbell heralding the arrival of Castiel himself and putting to rest all of Sam’s theories in that regard.

That had been over an hour ago.  Because Dean, being Dean, was running late. Abandoning the rest of the Winchester clan, and the various strays Mary had collected over the years, to awkward conversation over a dwindling mountain of pumpkin hors d'oeuvres. And Sam would have complained about it the moment Dean got there if his eventual arrival hadn’t been so hilarious.

So, the mystery dinner guest was a _guy_. Jess was surprised. And Sam would have been too if he hadn’t spent most of his life watching his brother staring wistfully at Castiel.

The guy, his brother’s _boyfriend_ – what the hell – didn’t look like Cas. Not exactly. But he _did_ dress like him, which was only the _first_ entertaining coincidence. Next there was a familiar scruffy quality and the sort of hair that, despite being blonde, was otherwise exactly like Castiel’s perpetually chaotic tangle. The constant five-o'clock shadow. And the determination to wear a tie that they obviously had no desire to actually tie. Wow. It was almost blatant.

Sam managed not to laugh in the dude’s face when they were introduced. It was a struggle though so he totally deserved good brother points for it.

“Good to meet you, mate,” Constantine said in a strident British accent and slapped Sam firmly on the shoulder. “Heard a lot ‘bout you, squire. Some of it were even good.” He winked at Sam.

Sam was just trying to articulate a response without giggling when Grandpa Campbell and John Winchester appeared in the living room doorway. Dad was exuding disapproval but the former Sheriff actually looked pleased.

“Is that John Constantine,” Samuel said as he pushed past Dad into the entryway. “My life, it is.” He shook Constantine’s hand with uncharacteristic friendliness, turning John Winchester an even darker shade of red.

Oh this could not get any better. Grandpa Campbell had never really found it in himself to approve of his son-in-law and still occasionally made it known. Showering his obvious approval on Dean’s _boyfriend_ (god Sam hadn’t even gotten over how funny that was yet) was just icing on the guy’s coffin.

And, hang on. The guy’s name was John? So Dean was _dating_ a _guy_ who was not only older than him but also called John? Seriously. He was even a freaking cop (pretty much). Seriously? This was like little brother Christmas and Easter all rolled into one. Sam had been freaking blessed. He was never going to let this drop considering the amount of shit Dean had given him over Brady during Freshman year. Could he get away with taking notes? This was going to be awesome. If he could just avoid dying of laughter that was.

“Anyone need another drink?” Sam offered. Trying to save himself with a trip to the kitchen where he could laugh without Mom glaring him into an early grave.

“That’d be cracker mate, I’ll have a w…” Dean’s date started to ask.

“He’ll have beer,” Dean corrected promptly. “And one for me too.” His expression indicated he'd rather have three.

“Sure,” Sam managed to splutter out, then he escaped before he cracked a rib trying not to laugh.

0oOo0

Dinner was… interesting.

Mom had obviously put a bit of thought into rearranging the seating. She had bullied Aunt Ellen and Uncle Bobby into sitting next to Dean and his date (ha!) with Sam and Jess on their other side. Various other manoeuvres had resulted in John Winchester being as far as possible without being directly opposite the pair. Turned out Mary Winchester was basically a tactical genius. Sam wasn’t surprised.

Dean had apparently been branded the girl – oh God, Sam don’t go there – not enough brain bleach in the world! And because Dean was the girl _for_ _seating purposes only_ it meant the brothers were side-by-side. Oh the opportunities!

But of course, Sam had to literally bite his tongue (or risk being stabbed with a fork) when it came time to give thanks. Because apparently this actually could get better.

“What do you mean you don’t know what to say? Make something up!” Dean hissed almost under his breath. A mumbled response then, “Yes, you _have_ to say something.”

Their foster-sister Charlie was already speaking at this point so Constantine was going to have to think quick.

Charlie was thankful for video games, the hot chick at the library and her ridiculous adopted family (them).

Next was Ellen and then Bobby. They both talked about each other and Jo. It was actually endearing. But next up was the unfortunate Brit. Sam really wished he could take notes.

“Ego gratias ago propter incelebrosos custodes,” Constantine started to say with a smirk when his turn finally came. His Latin was passable despite the accent.

Mary looked delighted. Sam frowned as he translated in his head, ‘ _I am thankful for’_ what was that? _Enticing (or alluring)… guards_ (or _cops_ ) oh god… This was too good. Dean was blushing. Like full on cheeks flushed and ears red blushing.

Jess helpfully elbowed Sam when his glee became too obvious. Thank god for Jess.

“Praesertim custodes qui Latine loquuntur,” Constantine continued smirk growing and eyes on Dean, “et qui volunt succubuere…”

Dean’s eyes went wide then he moved fast as he heard the first syllables of the final word. Sam could still hear a muffled grunt of indignation when Dean’s hand closed over Constantine’s mouth.

Mary started laughing.

Cas was blushing worse than Dean.

Sam translated as quickly as he could. _‘Particularly if they speak Latin and wish to…’_ Oh shit… Sam couldn’t hold in the laughter this time. If Mom was allowed then so was he.

“ _I’m_ thankful that _only_ six other people at this table speak Latin!” Dean said quickly while Constantine glared at him over the his palm. “Even if one of them is _my mother_! The former Latin teacher!”

Constantine looked more amused than repentant.

“That’s it?” Sam asked when Dean glared at him, hand still covering his boyfriend’s mouth.

“Yeah, right now that’s the best I can do,” Dean said with another vicious glare, this time at Constantine, but finally releasing him. “Fu…dge it,” Dean finished lamely when he caught sight of their mother’s still sparkling eyes across the table.

Sam didn’t even need to hear Dad demanding to know what was said. He did hear part of Mom’s answer though. “He said he’s thankful for, ah, attractive Latin speaking cops…” more grumpy muttering from Dad then Mom saying, “Yes that’s it. Shh.”

Sam managed to get himself under control enough to tell the table how much he loved Jess and his family. Even his jerk of a brother.

“Yeah, can I have what he said too?” Dean added when Sam was finished. “Except the bit about Jess. She’s awesome and all but…” Dean realized he was getting into dangerous territory and finished his addition with a half-hearted shrug. And Jess, being the amazing and selfless human she was, just smiled and started her own little speech, leaving Dean to grumble under his breath at the rogue element beside him.

It took a while to get all the way back around the table to Mom. But eventually Dad said grace and they were finally allowed to start eating. And, more importantly, for the extended Winchester clan, gossiping.

It was a large table and a huge spread but there were more than enough people there to make a dent in Mary’s vast preparations. Mary Winchester had always had a tendency to collect people. For her, family had never ended with blood. So their ‘family’ had grown over the years to include those who needed them. Like fostering Charlie. Or practically forcing Uncle Bobby to stay in touch after he retired from the Sheriffs’ Department to run his scrap yard. Even before he married her best friend Ellen Harvelle. To a lesser extent, even Castiel whose very Catholic family didn’t celebrate secular holidays.

In fact Cas was the only real hiccup in Mary’s vast but masterful seating plan. Somehow Cas ended up directly opposite Dean and Constantine. Dateless and wedged between Jo and Charlie, who were too busy flirting with each other to pay him any attention.

Sam had already determined that Cas’ on-again off-again romance with Meg Masters was apparently _on_ but Meg wasn’t there. Sam wasn’t really all that disappointed about that. If he could go the whole long weekend without seeing his ex-best friend then that would be a good thing. He was secretly relieved that Cas hadn’t brought her this year.

Meg had caused both Sam and Dean a lot of trouble at school. Almost getting Sam expelled back when they still hung out together. There were some train wrecks Sam would rather forget and his two weeks of skipping class and smoking behind the school with Meg was one of them. Cas swore she had changed but her appearance at last year’s Thanksgiving had been strained to say the least.

“So, where’s Meg?” Dean asked Cas as though he was reading Sam’s mind. He said it with more venom than was really warranted. But Sam couldn’t bring himself to feel too bad about it.

“She is spending the weekend at Leavenworth to visit Mr Masters for the holiday,” Cas said with admirable composure. Oh yeah, and there was the whole Meg’s father was an actual gang boss thing. Who actually tried to call in hits on a number of cops’ families - including the Winchesters back when Sam and Dean were kids. Sam almost forgot to feel bitter about that. Oops.

Dean’s date (Sam really had to at least _try_ and find that less funny) looked up from his conversation with Ellen.

“Did you say Masters, mate?” Constantine asked with an inappropriate smirk. “As in Alec ‘Azazel’ Masters? Of the Mid-west Demons?”

“Yes,” Cas responded stiffly. “He is Meg’s father.”

“Huh,” was all the FBI agent said.

“Yeah,” Dean said with a dangerously reckless look. “Constantine was on the task force that arrested him.”

Cas continued to look uncomfortable. God, Dean could be so insensitive sometimes. But before Sam could think of a way to come to his rescue it was John Winchester who spoke up.

“Oh yeah?” Dad said. “And _when_ exactly was that?”

“Oh, ’94 I think?” Constantine smiled apparently unthreatened by John’s tone. Or the implications of Dean being 15 at the time. “That right Sammy, old son?”

Sam almost choked wondering why he was being addressed on this. And where this guy got off calling him that. Then he realized it wasn’t actually directed at him. His grandfather was nodding and butting in.

“Yeah ‘bout that. I remember that case. The arrest got _real_ nasty.”

Somehow the fact that Constantine was working high profile cases while Dean was still in High School got avoided and the conversation turned quickly to arrest stories and war wounds. Sam was impressed despite himself. He wished he could handle Dad’s passive aggressive sallies with half as much aplomb and he’d had a life time to get used to it.

At some point during dessert Dean and Constantine’s cells went off simultaneously. Not a good sign.

John grabbed his and moved away from the table to answer. But Dean just picked his up right there.

“Hiya Missouri, this better be a murder or my Mom is going to kill you,” Dean said with a grin on his face and his voice but it missed his eyes.

Sam could hear Missouri’s distinctive voice telling his brother off before turning serious but couldn’t hear the words.

“Shit. Yeah I’ll be right there,” Dean said “Thanks.” He disconnected the call and stood up.

Dean was already pulling on his coat when Constantine walked back into the room.

“Crucifix killer?” Constantine asked Dean with a grim look.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Sounds like.” He grabbed Constantine’s tan trench coat from the back of a chair and threw it to the FBI agent. “Sorry guys,” Dean said, to the room this time. “Duty calls. Even on Thanksgiving.”

Sam suddenly remembered why he hated coming from a law enforcement family.

“Of course, baby,” Mary said as reassuring as she could. “I’ll save you some pie.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sixth Form Latin was a LONG time ago. I think I got my pronouns in the wrong tenses. If anyone wants to correct me please do!

**Author's Note:**

> I've never done the AU thing before! Tell me what you think? I'm a complete comment addict and I really want to know if this hit the spot, as it were. Thanks loves!
> 
> Also, I has a [Tumblr](http://kittyaugust.tumblr.com/) \- [kittyaugust.tumblr.com](http://kittyaugust.tumblr.com/)


End file.
